Imitation
by Kisuru-chan
Summary: Mimikyu hates Pikachu. Mimikyu wants to feel love, too. The humans should not love Pikachu more than Mimikyu! The story of how one Mimikyu becomes a Pikachu.


**A/N:** Written as a Trick or Treat 2016 exchange gift for cookinguptales.

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Always, Mimikyu had to travel by moonlight. Mimikyu did not particularly mind. The sunlight was its eternal nemesis. Its sensitive body could never adjust to those villainous beams of light. When the sunlight made contact with its rippling shadow, pain and discomfort throbbed against Mimikyu's very core.

Sunlight was evil. Now, in this mostly deserted human shopping district late at night, Mimikyu was happier. It was lonely, but… it deserved to be.

A pokemon that only caused pain and suffering, especially to humankind, deserved loneliness and solitude. This was just a simple rule it believed.

But that did not mean Mimikyu stayed cooped up in cramped, vile alleys all day! It liked exploring the human habitat at work even when it was alone.

Tonight was another night Mimikyu traveled through the dark. On this night, the pokemon opted to stealth in the human's realm. It floated down the street and marveled at the handiwork decorating the shop fronts. It passed an ice cream parlor. A shopping window full of mannequins dressed in a set of frilly dresses and suave suits. Over there farther to the left, Mimikyu could see the outline of a giant movie theater's doors. It could smell the sweet, poignant buttery popcorn and mix of candies inside.

With effort, it could slide in undetected and join in the fun. Laugh along with the humans, swipe a bit of popcorn. It never asked much but for company—

 _Thump_.

Sprawling backwards, Mimikyu released a snarl of rage. If someone wanted to pick a fight with it, it would fight until the bitter end! It would put them in their place for disturbing its nightly stroll. All it wanted was peace to itself. It was hurting none of the humans like this. Seeing but not touching, that—

Its wispy grey hand brushed a smooth surface. It squeaked. The glass shook. Oh, just a window.

Mimikyu grunted and rubbed at the top of its head with a black-tipped claw. It glared at the menacing display threateningly, a small but tough contrast to the broad sight above it. It should have been more vigilant, of course. Being careful was still difficult!

Mimikyu stopped dead in its tracks. The bizarre yellow and brown striped pokemon in front of it made the blood in its body turn sluggish but hot.

Pikachu smiled down at him. A row of doll Pikachu sat on top. A yellow shirt with a big smiley Pikachu face sat under that. In fact, the apparel did not stop there—there was even a fan, balloons, and figurines.

It was… _that_ horrible creature again.

Mimikyu easily knew his second nemesis name.

How dare Pikachu be so… so _disgustingly_ cute! Revoltingly cute all the time! It was a crime, a filthy crime. Pikachu smiled at the camera; it radiated a sheer happiness and cheerfulness that no other pokemon could hope to replicate. Its cuteness meter soared sky high. Its cheeks sparked with life and welcome. The humans gobbled that ridiculousness up and never bothered to think twice about it.

Mimikyu _hated_ Pikachu. Not every Mimikyu was so output, but… it was so sick and tired of seeing the humans coo over Pikachu this and that. All the girls had Pikachu purses or umbrellas. It was terrible, and Mimikyu could not understand. In the pokemon world, so many cuter, better pokemon existed.

Mimikyu glanced up at a faintly glowing monitor in the toy store's window. On screen, a boy chased a Pikachu. The Pikachu appeared to be running after something. When the boy caught up, he snatched up and hugged it tightly against his chest. Pikachu struggled, and when it could not escape, electric sparked around the boy and shocked them both. But in the after sizzle of pain, the Pikachu just sighed.

The worst part happened then.

The boy, the Pikachu's trainer, laughed.

 _Laughed._

Laughed at being shocked. The boy said something, but the volume was too low for Mimikyu to hear him.

How… how dare that Pikachu. It just hurt the human, and the human was gleeful about it. The nerve of—

A little boy had touched Mimikyu once. All the boy had wanted to do was pet it. Back then, Mimikyu had been happy. It had thought the rumors about its bad luck were fake. After seeing it, the boy had ran home in a coughing fit. Mimikyu had followed him. He had tried to peek in the boy's window to make sure he was okay. The boy stayed in his house for a long time, and Mimikyu never played with him again.

Mimikyu scowled. It dived in through the window and attacked the display. The figurines cracked on the floor. The monitor exploded in a flurry of glass. Mimikyu bite into a Pikachu plushie and fell to the floor with it, ripping at it with its teeth, enraged.

No one should love Pikachu. Mimikyu should be the adored one, respected and not ignored like it always was, shielded in the darkness. Pikachu was always in the spotlight and spoiled. Mimikyu stayed unobtrusively out of sight, watching eagerly for its moment to shine and be revered. But that blasted Pikachu always shoved it out of the way when it was time for a human to notice Mimikyu.

Mimikyuu did so much to show the humans it was not a threat to them. It meant no harm even when its nature forced it to be a foul creature. It still could not reveal its true self to the unsuspecting humans (the boy had taught it this), it was absolutely unfair.

Mimikyu spit out the Pikachu's button nose. It flew under the rack of Pikipek and Rockruff plushies.

Popularity was overrated, Mimikyu decided. Completely overrated. Humans were too stupid to understand the complexities of being a small-fry ghost Pokemon nobody understand properly.

Frowning, it stared down at the stuffing that fell out of the devastated Pikachu's head under its paw. Stark fury and resentment shone in its beady little eyes. The Pikachu stared up at it half distraught, half accusing. It looked as soulless as Mimikyu felt.

Mimikyu wanted the humans to notice its cuteness, too. Honestly, according to human standards, it was not cute. Its Fairy type should add to its charm… yet it did not help. Mimikyu looked too much like a spiky, fearful ghost to think it was ever a "cute" fairy.

This was a revolution for it. A Mimikyu Revolution Against Pikachu. Mimikyuu would rebel. The underdog would come out on top, mark its words!

"Kyuu, kyuu!"

From the corner of its eye, Mimikyu spotted something quite strange. Curious, it dropped the offending Pikachu plushie to get a better look at this fleeting specimen. It floated higher and propped itself up on the shelf. There, it stared into the face of its worst enemy, but it seemed a little less vicious.

The Pikachu puppet sagged forward. Lifeless, it stared down at the wooden shelf, dejected and sad. Mimikyu suddenly… no, its heart was not beating faster out of sympathy! It shook its head to rid itself of such thoughts. Snorting in announce, it smacked the Pikachu to the side; it fell on its side, the bottom half open. The opening was wide enough for a child's fingers to squeeze in and control the Pikachu's arms and body however they wished.

It was very… tempting to try it. Mimikyu did not have any fingers or hands to speak of, but it was small enough to fit inside and comfortably pretend.

Peering side to side, it relented. Just… this once. It would indulge itself. Just this once. It just wanted to know, so desperately, what made being a Pikachu so wonderful and adorable and priceless.

Mimikyu dived into the puppet. A snug fit. Mimikyu relished in the warmth and smiled to itself. It flew around the shelves and called out its best Pikachu imitation voice. Of course it sounded too deep and scratchy to be a real Pikachu, but Mimikyu could have cared less. For this moment, it was one of the best, and it would be loved by all little children!

Mimikyu stopped in front of a mirror to examine itself.

As it had thought, it looked fantastic—an exact replica of Pikachu in the flesh and bone. Well, its button eyes and flat bottom were giveaways. Mimikyu was not a picky one, though. Details, details.

Mimikyu would just have to—

The entire puppet costume dropped around it and turned a sickly yellow ashen color.

Its hopes and happiness fell through its stomach.

The costume did not fall off, but it did not stand up as proudly, as tall, as it did a minute ago. Mimikyu cursed its atrocious luck. Being a ghost pokemon must have affected the puppet in the worst way.

Why did Mimikyu ruin everything it touched? All Mimikyu wanted was love, but this was not it.

Spirits dampened, Mimikyu stared at itself in shame. Even like this, it still could not keep up the façade of a genuine Pikachu; Mimikyu would be picked out of a Pikachu lineup as a phony within seconds. Humans were not too friendly when they suspected pokemon of foul play for food or supplies.

Well… even so, it was too stubborn to back down. Even if it tried again, this would continue happening. But this puppet had showed it a ray of hope, and it would respect its new safety measure to protect humans. No humans would get sick if they saw or touched it like this. Mimikyu would just have to be the best Pikachu it could be. There was way around it. Accepting its fate would be for the best.

That monstrous electric mouse pokemon would never, ever beat it in a trillion years. Mimikyu had this thing in the bag and Pikachu would eat its dust!

Except…

Sighing a deep, disheartening puff of ash, Mimikyu bowed its head. This is not how it meant this to happen. It had wanted humans to love it… for how it was in its true form. If the humans did not love it for the pokemon it was, what would be the point?

Well, it had taken the first step to dominating the human heart. All it had to do from now on is act, talk, and walk similarly to a Pikachu. Granted, it would not a be a satisfactory life chance; Mimikyu would not be itself, after all. Regardless, until Mimikyu decided on another mode of action, enjoying Pikachu's fame and glory would just have to do for its confidence.

Mimikyu, hope somewhat restored, flew out the window once more. This time it flew out into the street and, with determination, planned its first move when it could start playing with the human children in the morning. Human children were fun, after all.


End file.
